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"I don't think I've ever seen you cry before."
"--Shut-up! Just- Shut-up, ok?"
Seth pressed harder on the extra layers of clothing that were quickly getting soaked in crimson. Under any other circumstances, he would have been fine. Being shot at was no problem, being sabotaged and trapped in a burning building? Nothing. Having a bomb set up in the house? Also not a big deal.
But with James on the ground in front of him, bleeding out from a bullet wound, Seth could hardly even form intelligible thoughts. He spoke more to himself than James, trying to calm down at least somewhat.
"It's okay-you're gonna be okay. Everything's alright."
James put a hand up to cover Seth's.
"I'm gonna be okay."
"You...shut-up."
He freed one of his hands to brush his hair back and grab his cellphone. Pressing a speed-dial number, he put it to his ear.
"Hello?"
Leave it to Charles to answer on the first ring.
"Charles! I need an ambulance!"
"Kindly refrain from yelling, if you would. I'm tracking your signal down now, what happened?"
"That bastard Trevor outsmarted me,"
"Never thought I'd hear that. You were basically playing the same game."
"Please, Charles. James is losing a lot of blood, okay? I just need an ambulance--and I don't know where Trevor is either."
"Calm down. Put James on the phone."
"Wh--"
"Now, Seth."
The blond moved the cellphone to James' ear, holding it for him.
"James, get him calm. I need him to have his wits about him when the paramedics arrive."
"I'll try...but could you hurry it along? -Starting to see spots..."
"They'll be there soon, just keep breathing and applying pressure."
"Sounds like the first girl I was ever with."
"Alright, James."
He hung up, and Seth moved the phone away.
"Hey...I told you about that guy I killed, right? The gang boss?"
"Yes, uh--you came into his office and shot him, then you were the leader before you met Charles. So what?"
"Now I know what he felt like. It's kind of cold and warm at the same time."
"You don't know what you're saying."
He held back what felt like cement in his throat.
"You're fine." Seth attempted to reassure him, but it was less than effective when he could barely speak.
"I am, I am." James put a hand on Seth's once again. "And I like talking to you, have I ever told you that?"
"What?"
"I like kissing you. I like touching you, too, but mostly kissing."
"Do you even know what you're saying anymore?"
He couldn't stop the tears that were waiting from overflowing.
"Don't cry. I'm trying to keep you calm. Charles told me to."
"Charles is an idiot," He pushed a little harder, James was getting ever more pallid. "Of course I'm not calm..."
"And I like that noise you make, when you really like something."
"What noise?"
"In bed, I mean. When I manage to do something 'right'. You just stop, and your breath catches before you just...sigh. And you look up at me with those eyes. They're so...domineering, if I had to say. You don't even have to say anything, your eyes tell me to do what you want."
With what little strength he had left, James lifted his hand to Seth's cheek.
"I love those eyes. When I die--"
"You're not gonna die."
"When I die," James continued. "I want them to be the last thing I see..."
He waited, and his arm fell back to the ground.
"Oh. Guess I'm losing more blood than I thought."
"James please. Please stay with me. I know I don't say it enough, but I love you, ok? You hear me? You can't die because I can't live without you. If you die here..."
Seth swallowed hard. His voice wouldn't obey him.
"If you die here, I do too."
He barely registered the sirens going off in the background. It wasn't until a paramedic coaxed him out of the way that he realized what was happening. He wrung his hands- just realizing that they were covered in blood. Another paramedic gave him a towel as James was taken into the back of an ambulance.
"We need his medical information, but we can't bring you with us."
"What?" By Charles' order, no doubt.
"Please, I need you to hurry."
"Uh, his blood type is AB negative, he isn't allergic to any medications and he's had two surgeries in the last three years--one on his back and the other was his lung."
"Thank you, we'll do what we can."
Seth took a moment to regain himself, watching the ambulance until it was too far away to see. His hands still had splotches of red on them, and his chest felt empty.
He was going to find Trevor.
...
James was rolled into the hospital room on a bed, only half-conscious. Charles, who was waiting in the room, dealt with the doctors and returned to his seat.
"I told Seth you would be alright."
"He's still worried anyway. I know he is."
"It's alright. He's most likely on his way here. Care to explain what happened?"
"...Trevor knew what we were doing. Ambushed us in the lobby with a few of his friends, we ended up down by the parking garage before he ran off--down an alley somewhere."
"Hm. I had a feeling something like this would happen. They're too alike..."
The door was pushed open somewhat tentatively, the intruder looking inside. Seth, and once he was sure he'd picked the right room, he was quickly over by James' side. Once James could escape his embrace (hitting his injury the wrong way), Seth moved back with an apology.
"How are you?"
"Still hurts. But I'll be fine.
"--The bill will be sent to your address. I'm not about to deal with this."
Charles was quick to leave the room once everything was settled. Seth seated himself by the hospital bed, still wearing his blood-stained shirt. James kept a hold of his hand.
"Couldn't find Trevor, that bastard. This is all his fault."
"It's okay."
"It's not okay. You could've been dead."
"But I'm not dead. I'm right here, see?"
"We still have to stop him. It's personal now."
James shifted slightly.
"...Maybe that's what he was planning on."
"What?"
"What would you have done? He wants you to hate him. He wants you to lose focus, lose sight of the goal here. Sounds like something you would do."
Seth paused to think. The notion made sense enough.
"I suppose you're right..."
"He's out there right now, though, killing other agents, putting them through the same thing and worse. We have to stop him, and soon. That isn't optional."
"Yeah."
"Oh, and," He squeezed his hand ever so slightly. "Happy Valentine's Day."